


Distraction

by thedevilchicken



Category: Ocean's Eleven (2001)
Genre: Implied Danny Ocean/Rusty Ryan, M/M, Mid-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-08-12
Updated: 2002-08-12
Packaged: 2018-04-05 18:58:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4191261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedevilchicken/pseuds/thedevilchicken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He so wanted to believe it was hero-worship. But he rather suspected it was a crush roughly the size of Nevada.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Distraction

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to Livejournal on 12 August 2002.

The bar at the Bellagio was next to empty; there were only five people in the whole damn place, including the old German couple in the corner, the bartender and him, Linus Caldwell, who was sitting at the bar with a drink in his hands. 

He hadn’t so much as sipped the drink in over ten minutes. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the scotch or that he didn’t feel like drinking, because he loved the scotch and the burn in the back of his throat might actually have been comforting at that particular moment. No, the reason for the untouched drink was the fifth person in the room. 

Behind the bottles and the glasses, behind the bar, was a huge mirror that covered the whole back wall. Linus’ eyes hadn’t left that mirror for a good half hour, and more specifically they hadn’t left the reflection of the figure by the window. Rusty Ryan was sitting there, slumped over the table, designer suit crumpled all to hell. He hadn’t moved since he’d sat down. Linus knew. He’d been watching him the whole damn time. 

He’d met Rusty once, back at his dad’s place in Chicago about four years ago when Danny Ocean had just gone down for fraud. Bobby had tried to convince him to come in on a job but Rusty had just smiled, thanked him for his hospitality and declined the offer. He even recommended a few guys he might look up instead because apparently Rusty was just that kind of guy. Linus could still remember the look on his face. He’d never seen a guy look so wistful before, or after. Not until he’d flown out to Las Vegas and met Rusty for the second time. 

Somehow Linus always felt so incompetent around Rusty that he just couldn’t form a coherent sentence. He’d grown up hearing about the great Danny Ocean and the equally great Rusty Ryan, and if he hadn’t known better he would’ve said it was some kind of hero-worship that had him so tongue-tied. Not that Linus was ever that much of a talker – Bobby had always talked more than enough for the both of them – but he’d always managed to hold his own in a conversation before. He’d never been so damn unsure of himself. And he’d never been so eager to impress. 

He so wanted to believe it was hero-worship. But he rather suspected it was a crush roughly the size of Nevada.

On that thought he picked up the glass and downed what was left of his scotch. And when he was through signalling the bartender to pour him another, Rusty was gone. 

Linus sighed, watching as the bartender poured him out another double. He gave him a nod and took a sip, letting the ice rest against his top lip a second as the scotch burned its way down his throat. Then he set the glass down and sighed again. 

“Something on your mind, Linus?”

He almost choked on his drink, spluttering into his hand and looking up as he reached for a napkin. Rusty slid onto the seat beside him, signalling the barman for a scotch for himself. 

“Nah, no, I’m… I’m cool,” Linus stuttered, wincing the second he’d said it. “Geez, could that’ve sounded any lamer?”

“I don’t know, you’ve sounded stupider,” Rusty told him, taking a sip of his newly poured scotch with a small smile.

“Gee, thanks.” 

“Any time, Linus.” 

Before that, Linus hadn’t even been convinced that Rusty knew his name. Sensibly he knew he had to but they’d barely even spoken and he’d been pretty sure that if Rusty remembered him at all it would be as the scrawny loser who’d just flunked out of Harvard Law. He didn’t know – maybe that _was_ how Rusty remembered him. But he’d changed, he knew that. He really had.

Sure, Linus still was and probably always would be as naïve as a six-year-old at Christmas, but he wasn’t the pretentious pseudo-academic he’d been the last time they’d met. He’d bulked up a bit, too - he’d kinda reminded himself of an emaciated European marathon runner back then. And he was a pretty darn good thief now, too, and not a lawyer-in-training. Things had changed. 

Except as far as he could see, Rusty hadn’t changed at all. He was still the same smooth-talking sharp-dressing guy he’d met that one afternoon in Chicago. No; there was one difference. Rusty was back on the job, courtesy of Danny Ocean. 

“I saw you watching me, you know.” 

Linus blinked, just once, hard, and tightened his grip on his glass as he felt the colour drain from his face. “What was that?”

“I saw you watching me.” 

“Hey, I wasn’t watching you! I might have-- glanced in your direction, sure. But.”

“Aw c’mon Linus, don’t play coy,” Rusty said, leaning on the bar, resting his head on his hand as he turned to face him. “I saw you. That wasn’t a glance – you were watching me. You’re not as sneaky as you like to think.” 

Linus downed his scotch with one furtive glance in Rusty’s direction. “So?”

“You’ve had enough.” 

“Oh?”

Rusty downed his own drink and shuddered, slamming the glass back down to the bar with a flourish. “I hate scotch,” he muttered. “You’ve had enough and so have I. Let’s get outta here”. 

Linus raised his eyebrows. 

Rusty smiled, his head still leaning on his hand, cocked to one side. “Linus, I was watching you too,” he said. His smile widened as Linus frowned. “Don’t look so surprised. How did you think I knew?” To his credit, Linus spluttered only slightly. “C’mon, let’s go.”

Rusty left his seat with his usual flair and headed for the door. Linus didn’t need telling twice; he followed just a few steps behind. 

***

Rusty sat cross-legged in the chair and watched with an amused grin as Linus stripped. Linus couldn’t take his eyes off him and kept tripping himself and getting himself otherwise entangled in his attire, until he was standing at the foot of his hotel room bed stark naked and red-faced, not sure what to do with his hands. 

He couldn’t decide if he should stand with his hands by his sides or on his hips, or if he could play with his hair to look less uncomfortable, and he ended up doing a nervous combination of all three whilst constantly fighting the urge to cover himself up. He didn’t think modesty was quite what Rusty was looking for, even if standing there as naked as the day he was born with Rusty’s eyes wandering all over him was already sending the blood rushing somewhere other than his cheeks. 

“Lie down.” 

Linus did as he was told, walking around the bed, extremely conscious of the weight of his throbbing erection as he did so. He lay down flat on his back, head on the pillows, hands bunching up the bed sheets at his sides as he craned his neck to look up at Rusty. 

Linus swallowed, hard. Rusty had left the chair and was already stripped to the waist. God, he was even more beautiful than he’d imagined. And he’d imagined a lot.

It took less than thirty seconds for him to strip off the rest of his clothing with at least 50% more grace than Linus had managed, then he parted Linus’ thighs as he crawled up the bed, settling on his knees between them. He smiled again as he ran his hands over Linus’ chest and must have felt him stiffen beneath him, felt the pounding of Linus’ heart. Linus could sure feel it himself.

Then he took his cock in his mouth and Linus had to bite down on his lip to keep from moaning out loud.

Suddenly all Linus could feel was the warm mouth that enveloped his cock. He felt Rusty’s lips as they trailed over his sensitive skin, the faint raking teeth that made him shiver not quite uncomfortable, his teasing tongue… Rusty had him deep down in his mouth, swallowing over and over, and Linus bucked up, again, unable to control himself. A hot hand teased at his balls and he lost coherent thought altogether. His eyes rolled back. He bucked again, again…

Then the mouth left him. Panting hard, frowning, he opened his eyes. 

Just in time to see Rusty shift, take Linus’ cock in his hand, then quickly and thoroughly impale himself on it. 

Rusty gasped and Linus moaned, thrusting up deeper. He was kneeling either side of Linus’ hips, his hands resting on his own calves, head thrown back, mouth wide open and gasping in a breath; Linus wasn’t sure he’d ever seen anything more stunning than him right at that moment, the muscles taut in Rusty’s stomach, his throat exposed, his cock hard and straining. And he was so close, so close to finishing. He’d fantasised about this moment for four years and it was going to be over in a freaking heartbeat. 

Linus came first, emptying himself in fitful bursts, the heat and pleasure washing over him in dizzying waves. Rusty followed a few seconds later, spilling over himself and Linus both before fairly collapsing down beside him with a breathless huff of laughter.

A couple of minutes later, both had drifted off into sated, contented sleep. Linus wasn’t sure if that had been the plan or if that was the booze talking.

***

Linus woke alone. The day was non-stop work so he had pretty much no time to himself to think about it, but that night as he took up station at the bar, he started to think it through. Just as the others walked in, every last one. Ocean’s Eleven. 

The Malloy brothers took seats at the far end of the bar then started an argument over their orders that degenerated into rampant peanut flicking. Basher, Livingston and Yen found a table and from the sound of it Basher and Livingston got into some technical discussion about security cameras and shit Linus felt faintly thankful to know nothing about. Frank sat down with Saul, catching up on old times the way they seemed to be able to do in a rather endless manner. That left Reuben to take the seat next to Linus in his gaudy yellow-gold suit whilst Linus watched Rusty and Danny in the mirror. 

Their discussion seemed rather animated, but Linus couldn’t lip-read worth a damn and they were far too far away to overhear so he just stared and cradled his drink, feeling more awkward there than ever. From where he was sitting it looked suspiciously like a lovers’ tiff. But Danny was married – or had been, at least – and Rusty was the biggest womaniser Linus had ever known. He frowned and rattled the ice in the bottom of his otherwise empty glass. 

Rusty stood suddenly and waved his hand dismissively. Danny stood and for a moment looked so tense in the shoulders that Linus thought he was going to hit him. But instead he turned and stormed toward the exit. 

“Wow, what’s with them?” Linus muttered under his breath, to no one in particular, sipping from his newest glass of scotch. 

“I’d say they got into one over Tess,” Reuben replied. Linus raised his eyebrows. He hadn’t really expected a reply, least of all from Reuben. 

“Yeah?”

“They were best friends before she came between them.” 

“They still seem pretty close to me.” 

Reuben nodded. “Oh, they are. That’s why they argue.” 

“And Rusty’s not worried that Danny’s gonna walk out on the job?” Reuben smiled and shook his head. “No?”

“No.” Linus frowned. “What, you think Rusty actually needs this?”

“I guessed we all did”, he replied, shrugging. 

“Trust me, kid. Look at the guy. You think he needs this? You think he’s going the casino ‘cause he needs the cash? You may be Bobby Caldwell’s kid but you sure don’t got his smarts, son. Rusty’s got all the cash he’ll ever need already. It ain’t about that for him.” 

“Then why’s he here? Why risk it?”

Reuben smiled and turned, motioned to Rusty who was slumped over the table by the window. Then he motioned to the door, where Rusty’s gaze was fixed, and where Danny was standing with his ex-wife, Tess. 

“We all need a little distraction now and then,” Reuben said, raising his glass. 

Linus did the same and downed what was left of his scotch. Yes, they all needed their little distractions. They all found them in such different places. 

Now he understood.


End file.
